Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Watch And Learn

Required Watchings For The Philosopher In You

Requiem For a Dream 
I'm going to throw out a warning here ahead of time: Requiem For a Dream is an absolutely beautiful, mind-bending movie, but it will fuck you up. Something about Darren Aronofsky films have this marvelously disturbing quality about them. I've yet to see a flick by him that doesn't have at least one scene that absolutely terrifies me, and Requiem For a Dream is no exception. As strange and unusual as the rising action seems to be, it's that last five minutes that will really do you in and leave you thinking.

The plot is convoluted, revolving around a troubled, drug-abusing bunch living in New York's Coney Island. Sara & Harry Goldfarb, a mother and son, turn their backs on society and instead exist in their respective dream worlds, both living with different forms of addiction. Harry is an aspiring heroin dealer and adamant user, while Sara finds herself addicted to television and eventually painkillers. Harry's girlfriend Marion and best friend Tyrone both find themselves wrapped up in their own deluded prisons, but press on with high hopes and aspiring dreams. Marion dreams of becoming a fashion designer, opening her own store with Harry to escape the streets, while Tyrone dips himself into the potentially booming drug market. But these dreams quickly inflate like balloons until the pressure becomes too much, and the only escape for all four of them is to let the balloon pop.

The journey we see as their lives spiral out of control is harrowing, but thought-provoking at best. The movie focuses not on the big picture of desperation and delusion, but instead on the little things that keep them comfortable and make every day bearable. The pop of the pill bottle. A swig of water. The rush of the heroin. It's these things that keep them moving towards the edge of the cliff, even though they're well aware that they'll eventually have to jump. Such human drama and tragedy is one of the finest cinematic examples that there's always fact in fiction.



American Beauty
As his first movie, American Beauty was the deal breaker for Sam Mendes's career. For the writers of the world, it was the kind of thing that made them bang on their heads and shout "Why didn't I think of that!" In essence, it overly-romanticized suburbia to the point of fiction, but it was enthralling nonetheless.

The story follows Lester Burnham, a middle-aged suburbanite who is severely unhappy with his life. He has an uninteresting job, a Stepford wife, and an angst-filled daughter with no clue as to how the real world works. Enthralled by his daughter's best friend, Angela, a seemingly confident and promiscuous cheerleader, Lester begins a philosophical journey into how he can mirror this kind of untroubled teenaged lifestyle at his age. Is it even possible for someone to be happy when the troubles and responsibilities of adulthood are clawing at your feet? More importantly, is it all or nothing when it comes to happiness? Does adulthood really mean the end of freedom instead of the release from bondage? Lester traverses through both worlds, picking apart each carefully to answer such questions. In the end, maybe happiness is trivial and short lived, but at least it makes life sweet while we're still here.

Related: Movie Run

1 comment:

Chez said...

Alan Ball's a genius: The last five minutes of American Beauty are absolute poetry.